Time Cannot Erase
by Creejak
Summary: A firstperson biography of a character that is marked with death, depression, violence, love and blood. As he ponders his past and contemplates the future, memories plague him of his highest and lowest moments in life. R&R Welcome
1. Home

Title: Time Cannot Erase

Characters (Involved in Chapters): Grapple, Mallot, Jacoby, Sara (OC), Allen Hobbs (OC), Molly (OC)

Disclaimer: The song lyrics this was inspired by are from Evanescence's 'My Immortal'. You can see them at http: endor./ org/ evanescence lyrics.asp?Submit=View Lyrics&AlbumID=4&SongID=31 Of course, no spaces in the URL.

Summary: An unconscious biography of a character that is marked with death, angst, violence, love and blood.

Author's Notes: Originally a one-shot, I edited it for it was way to long.

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One: Home 

I'm sitting out here on the deck of this blasted vessel. I can't seem to get away, physically or mentally. Every time my mind tries to go home, it flickers back here. Surely I'm not staying here for the rest of my hopefully short life? I do want to go home, but...then again, there's that lingering... I don't know the word for it. I'll just use 'emotion'; it's simple and close enough.

I've called many places home, even though most of them have not known my presence for any more then a month. Even where I was born, my mother (Hell curse the slut) told me I could never sit still. It wasn't that I was restless. I was merely uncomfortable. I was always 'uncomfortable' at home. I wasn't wanted, I wasn't even acknowledged. When mother wasn't screaming at her brood, or fucking some snake, she was fighting with father (Hell burn him slowly and painfully). She was always having affairs, and so was he. What's ironic is she got upset when she caught him. And she did. Often.

I caught him once, completely by accident. It...affected my mind for life, really. I've long forgotten why I was going into that wing of the house. It was off limits to us children. There were seven of us, Mallot and I included. Regardless, it happened. Father was pushing Amelia against his desk, calling her a whore, a slut, a sleazy bitch. I just stood in the open doorway and stared. Not in disbelief, or horror as one might suspect a ten-year-old child to do. I was just...I couldn't react. I wanted to yell at him, throw something, run and help her somehow. He was quicker, though. Naturally. He had a reputation as a respectable gentleman of the court to uphold.

Huh. No matter how times I think about it, it was a terrible way to cover things.

Anyways, he dragged me away by my collar and flung me down one of the staircases. It had forty-three steps, as I recall. I counted them as I tumbled down. Mother was there though, and for once she did something that was best for one of her offspring. She started yelling and followed with screaming. I crawled off elsewhere. My ankle had been sprained; least I would have walked off.

We were the only two sons, Jonathan and I. The other five of my siblings were all girls. They all had blue or hazel eyes. There were only three of us that were really my father's children. Amelia, Jonathan and I. While Amelia and I had our father's glassy brown eyes, Jonathan had storm cloud grey eyes, which were incredibly suspicious, but he really is my full-blooded brother. Sometimes he jokes, it's a worse curse for me then what the Aztecs did.

Damn Gods...this is their entire fault. I was never religious; Sara often reminded me when I let slip the occasional 'God' in my words. Damn it, this is my entire fault...God how I miss her. She was worth it, the pain. She was worth all the suffering...She simply had whatever made things better.

I wish she hadn't...

After I left the room, I found Jonathan in the kitchen, stealing cookies of all things. He's always been a troublemaker. He saw me and asked what was wrong. I explained what had happened, though I'm not sure he fully understood it at the time. He does now, though. We've both grown and learned.

Since I had witnessed father trying to rape Amelia, he realized I would reveal his sinister self. He tried so many plots to kill me...in the house, for _Christ's sake_, in our own _home_ in _front_ of everybody! I left when I was twelve. I just couldn't take it anymore, simply. It had gone far enough, and Jonathan realized this as well. He left with me. We had heard about a place in Jamaica just off the island of Hispaniola. Although primarily the French ran it, we figured it was good enough. People lay low there all the time, and we did speak a fair amount of French, being educated at early ages.

We went to the shipyard and with what little money I brought, decided buying passage wasn't a good idea. Instead, we, being silly children (I look back at this and laugh for numerous reasons) stowed away. Apparently, it was a six-month journey from our port to the Caribbean. It didn't work, for obvious reasons. We were caught and, as it happened, the French caught us. Damn French. Mallot spoke English without thinking and we were landed in the brig with the other slaves. Negroes and whites without French origin greeted us.

It was a tight knitted group. If one person was sick, we all took care of them. If a mother went into labor, we all helped her by it. If one person didn't eat, none of us did. Six months of brutal care, sickness, starvation and ailment was not to be ours, however. Mallot and I were both very young and, thus, spirited. We refused to accept such harsh treatment and got lashed many times. What saved us, though I should say whom, was Hobbs.

Allen Hobbs, ex-noble in the court of the British king and gentleman, did not like the idea of English-speaking white slaves. He purchased many of us as let us go our own ways. Of course, Mallot and I didn't have anywhere to go. He took us home with him. Bought passage for us to go with him on a four-month voyage to Hispaniola, where we would be transported to Tortuga. He treated us like sons, to which we were grateful. This man was the father we should have had.

He found amusement in my accent more then Jonathan's. I had a very odd voice that seemed playful and concerned, as he described it. Plus I had the accent of the Australian criminal colony. My family had been settlers there, though because I had never stayed near the house to long and secluded myself rather, to the barns and land, I hadn't developed the British accent of my parents, but the accent of the servants and locals. I even had met some of the aboriginals, though I had hardly understood them. When the one that knew English spoke it, I had to ask my friend (who was looked down upon by my parents as he was a groom) to translate. I got used to them, though.

When we did arrive in Tortuga, we discovered it really _was_ a good place to lay low. Just about everybody was a crook, a pirate, a whore or some form of unlawful citizen. Mallot loved it. I was cautious but adapted, and I to grew to love it. It was my future home, after all.

Pausing in my thoughts, it's grown a little louder on the deck for this time of night. Mallot and I have been given the deathwatch, so we were the only two up here. Jacoby just got thrown out of the barracks again. Poor bastard, his beard is just too insane. Religious or not, it's a fire hazard and has caused many problems onboard. However, as I go on, he's helpfully lit up the lantern that went out about ten minutes ago. Poor bastard...we josh him so bad. Ah, but he's insane and takes it well. We always stop before he goes berserk, to. Never make him furious; we have to keep in mind. He can fight like nobody's business, and those grenadas are lethal. Of course, we're immortal...can't even feel pain, but it's a constant habit still to avoid getting blown up to smithereens. When and if we're uncursed, our hearts have to be intact. To late for me though. I fell in love, which is never a good thing. It was honest to God love. But my heart is...not there anymore.

Hobbs had only one child of his own. His wife, Molly, became barren due to birth complications after her first, though they loved that child of theirs like she was a Goddess, and _oh_, she very might have well been...Sara was the name of their daughter. I flinch every time I hear it. It was once beautiful, now it's painful like that horrible squeaking sound Ragetti's eye makes when he tries to clean it.

Sara was a half a year younger then I, though we were the same age periodically. She was a very pretty child, with auburn hair that had waves in it. It went to her shoulder blades, always, except when she did it up or braided it. Her eyes were a beautiful velvet brown colour and she was not incredibly skinny but she had a very attractive figure as a young woman. She was always a half a foot shorter then I, even while we were growing. We took an immediate liking to each other, though it didn't start out as love, or even a simple fancy.

She knew how to ride horses, which I found fascinating. I didn't think Hobbs, a gentleman of higher society, would allow his daughter to ride, let alone straddle the beast's back. Mallot said it was because Molly liked spoiling her only child, and Hobbs had no reign over the feisty woman. Funny, though, Molly was very protective, like a hen. Motherly plump little thing, she is. At least, I hope she's still alive. I haven't seen any of them in at least four years.

Sara and I found common interests after another. She even got along finely with Jonathan, who seemed intent on out-doing her in what he refers to as 'man things'. She found the competition fun. I guess we were simply a trio of close friends that were meant to be such a thing.

It wasn't all fun and games, of course. We were expected to earn our keep. Both us boys learned to serve drinks, as Hobbs owned a tavern called _The Black Dragon _which received high financial profits. We learned to keep track of the money and how to prevent the silliest of brawls. We also mucked the stalls in the small barn in the back. Although there were only five stalls and a loft (it was small, after all!), Jonathan hated cleaning it. I loved it; I had always helped with the boys that worked in our stables at my old home. As we got older, we learned how to settle complicated matters such as the occasional accident when one of the whores that 'belonged' to the tavern got pregnant. We also kept them safe. Jonathan had his shoulders dislocated once because of it. Hobbs also signed us up on ships. We learned the art of sailing and became pirates. Hobbs had expected this, and when we asked him why he encouraged our criminal activity, he said it was financial benefit and educational for both of us. So, we continued on with piracy, even adopted unique weapons and new names. I could never stand my old one. Trevor. Pfft. Very British...

When we weren't working, we used my 'room', the loft in the barn, as our port-of-call. I taught Sara secretly how to read. Once Hobbs found out and burned the books I had been using to teach her. He said it wouldn't be useful for her in her life. She brought new books and I continued to teach her. Jonathan liked to learn anything; he even enjoyed trying to learn a foreign language. He hung out with all the men who could speak any other language then English fluently. I think he's fluent in German to this day.

Ah, I have proof. Jacoby just burnt a bit of Mallot's sleeve. He's cursing in German like he was born in the country! Heh. Good boy, just arrogant.

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Review at your own leisure. 


	2. Liaison

Title: Time Cannot Erase

Characters: Grapple, Mallot, Jacoby, Sara (OC), Allen Hobbs (OC), Molly (OC)

Disclaimer: The song lyrics that inspired this story are from Evanescence's 'My Immortal'

Summary: An unconscious biography of a character that is marked with death, angst, violence, love and blood. As he ponders his past and contemplates the future, memories plague him of his highest and lowest moments in life.

Author's Notes: Not much. I wrote this as a one-shot fic originally but changed it, as it was way to long in my opinion.

ALSO, September 19th is International Talk Like A Pirate Day!!! So celebrate and rejoice, ye thievin' scum!!! : D

Two: Liaison

When I was fifteen, Sara came up to the loft by herself. This was common; Jonathan (thirteen at the time) was probably busy elsewhere or didn't feel like whatever she was planning on. She had a book with her, an adventure and romance novel about pirates. I found it amusing that pirates could be portrayed as heroic loving figures when I had grown up around many and knew better. She wanted to read the book regardless, so we did. The romance was...definitely there. I don't believe I had heard grown men talk about sex so much. Sara found it hilarious I stumbled so badly on most of my words. She got a lot closer to me and we eventually ended up lying down together, her in front of me and on our sides as I held the book out in front of us where both of us could see it. I didn't quite notice when it started, being busy with reading, but when she leaned back against me after a while; I definitely _did_ notice I caused a small problem.

Well, being a teenager with 'raging hormones' who the bloody Hell would blame me? I had an attractive girl pressed up against me reading a highly detailed romance novel! She noticed the problem as well. What did she do? Laugh. Not at me, at the fact that she had excited me and given me an erection. I think that's the point where I fell in love with my best friend. Of course, I didn't think much of it; only when she touched me, simply because it reminded me of how she had pushed up against me for comfort. This went on for a year, though I engaged myself with other girls every now and then.

When we were sixteen, I guess men decided she was ripe enough for the taking, because they sure as bloody Hell started trying to make passes on her. She wasn't a whore, and some people were scared to touch her. Hobbs had a loving relationship with his riffle, and knew how to aim it. He would never approve of somebody sleeping with her, let alone kissing her. There was a man though who was clever enough, even when he was drunk. Collin Glencairm, often called 'Glen' by his mates. He was a captain of a ship called _'Sunny Fortunes'_, a pirate of course. He thought he was to big for his boots, even at the old age of forty-six. He wanted Sara, just to prove he could attain the forbidden. He relentlessly hounded her, making cruel jokes, slapping her rump as she went by, tugging her skirts...

Jacoby has just been laid flat. Although we are cursed, we can still be dazed and knocked unconscious. We can even get sick and show the signs of it, though we aren't affected. We also age, which is why there is such a _rushed desperation_ to get uncursed. I street box whenever we are in port. The crew likes to watch, as well, so I always show off even though I know I'm going to win with immortality on my side. It's bare fist, and I've been seriously cut up and bruised before but I refuse to get knocked out. I'm a veteran to the illegal sport. I've been doing it since I was a young pup of sixteen. Of course, I haven't always won. I've got four false teeth to boot. Huh. Good money though. Anyways, the bastard just singed my ponytail. I've got odd hair, I realize, messy, greasy and a mane-cut, but honesty-burning it? Tch. Heh.

When Sara was seventeen (I had been eighteen by two months) Collin went behind the bar counter. Jonathan, who had been given the position of bartender and was damn proud of it, knocked him back and out of the way. He also pushed the man down the trapdoor that lead into the cellars. Hobbs kept all his ales, wines, and alcohols down there until they needed to be used. There were some very step wood steps and Collin pretended to be hurt. Sara went down to check on him and see if she needed me to drag him out (as I had somehow acquired the extra position of security and 'brute forth-assistance'). When she got down there, Collin dragged her up against the wall and started tearing her gown open. I just happened to be passing by the trapdoor to get myself a drink when I heard her whimper. Her pure voice...God, I miss her. Anyways, I poked my head down there and...this is a part in the story I wasn't present.

I said before I had been affected by my father's abuse towards my sister. I said it somehow got into my mind. Well, it had also given me what I refer to as 'Dementia Praecox'. It's commonly known as Schizophrenia, or Multiple Personality Disorder. I have a violently furious and sarcastic personality, a dramatically playful one and an almost feral one. Jonathan knows about them. He likes to name them. Dah, Keevar and Garou.

Dah came out and nearly ripped Collin to shreds. He dove down into the cellar, yelling and roaring in fury. He ripped him off of Sara, pushing him clear to the other side of the room and tackled him. Collin was screaming for help, Dah was simply beating the man to death. There was a lot of blood, both from him and my own flesh. I wanted to stop after a while but found I couldn't. I was just watching. Even after Hobbs came down to investigate and dragged Collin to safety, he had to get Molly to hold Dah back. She was a strong woman, regardless of how she looked. She could make a rabid dog submit if she wanted to... I broke out of Dah after twenty minutes of trying to break loose and slaughter Collin, who had already been thrown out of the tavern.

I simply became silent and still, and Molly hesitantly let me go. I walked out to my loft and stayed there for a day. Life went on as usual, after that. They figured I had simply been so enraged I snapped and tried to kill Collin as painfully as possible, which I had. Mallot spoke to me once, explaining how he knew the reason I had really gone berserk. 'Dah' was my revenge for Amelia, my anger for my father. He was right, of course. He had never spoke of it before, and never spoke of our father again. He was dead to us, and we just carried on.

We didn't see Sara for six days after that, and hardly did we see Molly. Of course Sara had been upset! God _damn it,_ she had every right to be. It wasn't something one could laugh at like a young teenager's erection! I just wanted to see if she was all right. In the cellar, in the corner opposite the stairs, there was a hardly noticeable door, which behind it lay Sara's quarters. I approached it but had to duck behind a barrel of rum as Molly came out. She closed the door behind her and bustled up the stairs, meeting Hobbs at the top. They spoke for a while, and Molly said Sara was asleep. Their voices faded. I stayed still where I was, hardly breathing, even after the trapdoor was closed. For ten minutes I lay still and quiet, until I had to get up as the pins and needles in my legs were piercing. I crept to her door and pressed my ear to it. Then, guided by my urge to see if she was all right, I opened the door silently.

The moon is full tonight. The stream of stars in the sky that looks like a white river is exceptionally bright, and I'm in full skeletal form. I hate it. I'm a rotting corpse that has been decomposing for ages. There are no clouds in the sky and the stars are clear, as fire is bright. Huh. Neat little metaphor I just came up...Heh.

Sara was sitting up, propped up by four pillows. The candle in it's holder by her bed on her nightstand was alight and there was a small stick of incense by it that had clearly been burning for a long time before hand, as it was down to it's last centimeters. She looked up, startled, and her eyes went wide. She was scared of me, scared of what I had done and was capable of doing. I wasn't angry, just a bit hurt by it, but I understood. I understood her concern fully. She stared at me, standing in her doorway, for long, grueling minutes. Then, Sara relaxed. She settled herself back down and continued staring at me. At last, she opened her mouth to say something, yet hesitated. Then, at last, she smiled and patted the space on her bed beside her.

I have to pause in re-thinking my past. Mallot just dropped his hammer on his own foot and we heard a bone crack. Bloody heavy thing, I'd hate to get hit with it. Those who have have met most painful deaths. Broken skulls, that rusty nail pierces flesh as easily as my hatchet, and he knows how to use it to cause pain and not a fatality.

"Grapple, come over here. Close the door behind you, please. Oh, and lock it."

I grinned somewhat and liked how she referred to my name, not my Christian dubbing. I obliged her. Turning around, I shut the door quietly and flipped the key around in the lock. There was a small click and I turned back to her, satisfied the door was secure. Not quite wondering what we were going to do, but curious nonetheless how it would happen, I walked towards her and sat down. After a moment of silence, I took my belts off and removed my grapnel hook from over my chest. Placing them at the floor beside her bed along with my boots, I lay back and settled down, got comfortable.

"Thanks," she murmured after shuffling up beside me and resting her head on my bicep. She laid an arm over my chest and sighed with a shudder. I felt goose bumps rise on my skin; she felt a little cold. "For saving me, I mean," she said, even quieter then before.

"I can't...let anything happen." I swallowed a lump in my throat, my cheeks turning red. "To you, I mean." She looked up at me and I shut my eyes. After a moment, I still felt her eyes on me and opened my own, shifting my gaze at her. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't angry. She had the twitching of a grin on her lips. I wanted to make her smile and laugh like she always did. She had a nice ring to her laugh; it always relaxed me up when I heard it. It was a tense moment just before I sat up a bit and raised her chin. But as we kissed for the very first time out of love, I found that uneasiness dissipated. She encouraged me by pushing forward, returning it. I couldn't hold back, I had finally been given a chance. As I turned her onto her back, kissing her lips, her nose, her cheeks, all over her face, and moved down to her neck, I felt her legs wrap around my back and the scratching noises of my harsh clothes against her smooth gown. I tugged my pants down to my knees and held her tightly. I didn't want to hurt her...we couldn't stop; we were caught up in the motion.

Ah, bloody Hell. Going over this almost makes me feel guilty. It wasn't my first time. Hell, I wasn't new with sex, but she was, I was positive. She _was_. I didn't want to hurt her. It always hurts girls for the first time, which probably is a major letdown for them. Ah, bloody Hell...

Somehow, all our clothes had come off during the coition. I don't even remember how my pants ended up where they did across the room, but I do recall throwing her gown in front of the door. It was...nice. I asked her if she wanted me to stop when she made quiet sounds of pain, but she told me to go on, which I did. She adjusted after a while; I guess when the hurting stopped. Sara was quiet that time, and fidgeted quite a bit. Kept asking me to "go slow". I did. Even after I climaxed I couldn't stop kissing her.

Afterwards, we just lay in each other's arms, half asleep and quiet with our own thoughts. My main attention was derived to praying to whatever divine entity was out there she didn't get pregnant. _That_ would have been...not good, for starters. Of course, I don't think Hobbs would have let me live long enough to figure out what happened. Sara shifted against me and once again she felt cold, mismatched with her warm breath on my collarbone. I remember her trailing kisses along my skin, and falling asleep with the rhythm of her gentle breath on me.

I also remember waking up. Mallot had picked the lock, also bent on checking if Sara was okay. I heard the door open and looked up as the knob turned. He opened the door and saw us wrapped up within each other. I...honestly don't know how he first reacted, or wanted to react. He just stood there for the first five minutes starring at us. I stared back without saying a word. His expression changed quite a few times before he just put his hands behind his back and started grinding his teeth in that annoying way he still does to the day. He breathed out, relaxed, and left us be without a word, shutting the door behind him. I suppose he figured it would have happened. I don't know....

The next day, Sara and I went on as if nothing had happened between us. I found myself wondering if it indeed had, and it wasn't just some longing that had interrupted my dreams. Then again, I pondered whether or not she just wished it hadn't happened or hadn't been impressed. A group of French privateers came in, and I visibly twitched. I had a minor grudge against the French since they attempted to enslave me. Regardless, I served them their drinks and they stayed until late in the evening. Mallot kept a close eye on them and myself, probably fearing I might go berserk like I had on Collin and kill them or something. After they sparsed out (whether by going upstairs to fuck, passed out drunk, or simply leaving), Mallot and I settled down to relax for a bit and drink ourselves into some kind of coma. He was only fifteen but had a talent and stomach capable of drinking a Swedish man under the table. We weren't talking very much, the surprise of him seeing Sara and I together I guess a bit to odd for him. However, he turned to me after a while and asked, "Love 'er then?" I stared at my drink and remained silent. "I think y'eh do. Y'eh have f'er a long time, brother."

"Yah, suppose I have," I replied after a minute.

"Well?"

I looked up at him, not quite understanding. "Well wot?"

Mallot looked at me ludicrously. "Well do y'eh _love_ 'er?"

"I..." I paused, then snorted and grinned a bit. "Yeah. I guess I love her."

"Hm," Mallot exclaimed simply and started drinking again. The night went on as usual then; we were both talking normally about the day's events, occasionally the attractive woman that came by was mentioned, what I had earned in a fight and other things that we figured important. Molly bustled by and forced some food down us, saying we should eat before and while drinking. I never argued; it was pointless to bicker with that woman. You would be arguing why you didn't need to eat _while_ she'd be spooning soup in your mouth.

Around two in the morning, I was seriously sloshed and Mallot was near to passing out. Sara poked her head out of the cellar and spied me. Looking around herself, she crept towards me and whispered it was time for us to go to bed. I figured she meant Mallot and I as we were well watered and both teetering dangerously on our chairs, so I let her help me up and lead me away out the back where there was a small path that lead up to the barn doors. We opened them and I dragged myself towards the ladder and climbed it with grace for someone who was stumbling ever other step he took. However, I had done it many times before, and Sara was behind me (though I didn't register it). I crawled the remaining way to the hay-stuffed mattress I slept on and collapsed onto my back. Sara lay down beside me and pulled the single cover up.

Whether it was from the natural heat of the Caribbean, or our own heat combined with each other's and the blanket, I started taking my shirt off when Sara practically leapt on me and straddled my hips like I was one of the horses below. Next minute, we were roughly making love. It was sweaty, hot and if it weren't for the sex part, I'm sure we would have been uncomfortable. She couldn't walk quite right the next morning, for the record. I had a large hangover and whether it was the pain and she was being sympathetic or she was just content, she was very affectionate to me. Jonathan clued in quickly and kept making inferring jokes to let us know he knew what we had been up to. It went on for ages, because Sara and I...we woke up beside each other _a lot_ after that.

Turns out she was a wildcat in the sack. I had to admit; it took me completely by surprise the first few times. She always seemed a little more timid then she really was. I guess it was simply how we went about it. After the fifth time with her, it became apparent that the location didn't matter either, though Molly was curious as to how we had both acquired hay over ourselves.

The Captain's come on deck, wanting to know what the commotion was. Mallot's explaining how the beard had caused more trouble then it was worth. Barbossa is giving me a glare because he just saw Jacoby sprawled out on the other side of the ship. Hector's warning me now that if Jacoby's mates find out (which I'll make sure they don't) I may find myself in a bit of trouble. Of course he's not too concerned, he knows I take care of myself. He's going back to his cabin and Mallot is trying not to laugh. Stupid idiot... Heh.


	3. Kade and Barbossa

Title: Time Cannot Erase

Characters: Grapple, Mallot, Jacoby, Sara (OC), Allen Hobbs (OC), Molly (OC)

Disclaimer: The song lyrics that inspired this story are from Evanescence's 'My Immortal'

Summary: An unconscious biography of a character that is marked with death, angst, violence, love and blood. As he ponders his past and contemplates the future, memories plague him of his highest and lowest moments in life.

Author's Notes: I deleted and re-edited this chapter. Found way to many mistakes involving grammar and spelling for my liking.

I had been stupid, numerous times. Every time Sara and I slept together, we were being idiotic. Every time she'd moan or I'd growl, we were being stupid. Every time I didn't withdraw out of her intentionally or accidentally, I was being so incredibly moronic. Every time we kissed, even, we were running a risk. Hobbs wouldn't have thought before killing me, and I don't joke, he was so protective of his daughter especially after the incident with Collin. Of all our silly and unintelligent antics, it was equally balanced with sheer dumb luck. One such time was in the spot where we least suspected we'd get caught; upstairs where the rooms where. Whether they were rented out for the hour or the night, perhaps even a week, nobody ever seemed concerned. She was nineteen and I was twenty. We had come along way without ever being caught except by Mallot (who didn't really count-he could have cared less except it gave him the opportunity to crack as many sex jokes at us as possible).

Sara was pinned against the wall, and we were just making our way into the door a few inches away from us, though struggling as were rather occupied with each other. Of course, we didn't realize Molly come up the stairs and spy us in a fierce knot of lips and limbs. Only when she dropped the armful of clean sheets onto the wooden floor and a whore downstairs called up if the older woman needed assistance. We immediately broke away from each other and looked guiltily at the woman, who quite possibly had a heart attack but was too shocked to notice. We both looked guiltily at each other before breaking out into some implausible blither of excuses, trying to explain to Molly it wasn't what it looked like. She silenced us with a death-glare and approached. We both cringed, thinking she was going to scream at us, or hit us, or something terrible. Instead, she dragged us into the room by our ears (tugging on the earring braided through my lobe rather hard) and made us sit down on the bed.

Molly then launched into the lecture of how stupid we were to be 'parading around' like we were where everybody (especially Allen) could have seen us. She also reprimanded me for saving Sara from being raped and then trying to take her for myself. She also then reprimanded Sara for _letting _me. We were slightly confused as to why she kept saying "As romantic as it is..." Despairingly, she asked us how long the affair had been going on and whether or not we had actually copulated. Her look was so stern and she seemed so threatening, Sara and I only glanced at each other before looking down and nodding our heads. Molly slapped me sharply and I had to bite my tongue so I didn't curse. And then, the most peculiar thing happened.

Molly gave us both a painful hug that was like a bear mauling somebody. "You two! Oh, I saw it coming the day the scruffy ruffian showed up!" She squealed like a silly little girl and (still hugging us) warned us that although she was happy about it, her husband Hobbs would murder us. Of course, I already knew that. Molly started going on about her days when Allen was courting her and then when they first married. It was a tad boring but we listened, for safety's sake. After she realized she was' blithering like a schoolchild', she warned Sara to only let me at her during a safe time 'during her cycle' to avoid an impending pregnancy. For a moment I was horrified that that meant we could only make love when Sara was bleeding, but when Molly left us alone, she explained to me it's true meaning.

We weren't in the mood after Molly's discovery and reprimands. Instead, we found Jonathan (and after prying him away from his latest whore) and went for a night on the town, simply because we were young, wild and easily entertained. We went drinking at least seven different bars; the in-between time was spent watching me fight with some chump in an illegal bare-fist match, earning the money for our next drink, and giving me a concussion to go home with. We smoked (Sara didn't, claimed the smell made her nauseous), gambled a bit (Jonathan had a knack for cards even though half the time he cheated) and then went down to the docks to look at potential ships. Although Mallot and I weren't fit to pick our next sail, we had nothing else to do, and I wasn't to keen on going back and facing Molly knowing what she knew.

That night, we would find something important, though it wasn't a ship. They would, however, affect our lives in the future inevitably.

The docks weren't a very friendly place to be no matter what time or who you were, however being there at night was even worse. Shifty characters, thieves, scoundrels, men eager for a fight, all of them seemed to gather there. The docks themselves were in a mess. Boards rotted away, whole sections of the docks unsafe to even the lightest of people, and scars where fights had taken place. The docks were where the boxers fought. Any man who could throw a punch and needed money could enter himself, and if a fistfight broke out people placed bets, though there were those who were considered 'professionals'. I, of course, was one of them. I had been doing it long enough and winning enough to establish a place. Usually, I was the favorite for winning. Of course, the docks were also a good place to look out and see ships. If you liked what you saw, you spoke to its crew and might find a place there. Another more dangerous thing about that particular part of the island were the sailors that were getting _off_ their ships. Most were lonely, anxious, glad to be back on land, and you can only imagine what they wanted.

We weren't looking very hard at the ships, not even being able to keep an image straight in our heads. Sara and I were more involved in a shag-fest then looking at anything inanimate. Unfortunately, unless one kept a steady eye on Mallot, he tended to get into trouble (still does, come to think of it). That night was no different. Mallot started trouble with a large black pirate with black tattoos above his eyes and around his arms and hands. He was probably a slave captured from one of the islands, that had either been bought or set-free, and by the look of him he was very pissed off. He looked in his prime, judging by how fit he looked and the challenging saber he wore on his belt. When Jonathan crashed into him, told him to watch where he was walking and called him a 'dirty bloody Negro!' it _might_ have spurred him on to _get_ pissed off. The larger man practically picked Jonathan up and threw him a good two meters back. His trademark weapon slung over his back by a belt carried Jonathan even farther. He landed heavily on his side and scrambled up like a dog that had just been kicked. Shouting insults and cursing a steady stream of foul words in two different languages, he started to draw his mallet off his back when the black pirate lurched forward with his saber in hand. I found myself away from Sara suddenly and with my grapnel out. Hooking the enemy blade in the curve of the metal prong, I jerked my arm back causing the saber to be loosened from the other pirate's grip and kicked out at his hand. He wasn't drunk though like I was, and evaded the attack with ease.

"Oy!" Jonathan yelled and the man looked up as Mallot suddenly swung his mallet at the man's head. There was a loud banging sound as the hammer made contact and the unfortunate pirate collapsed with a heave on the boardwalk. Mallot stumbled off to the side as though nothing had happened and promptly collided with a crate. Sara was staring at the larger black pirate with a look that clearly stated he had gotten what he had deserved. Had Mallot not been drunk and had been able to muster all of his strength, I'm certain the man wouldn't have lived.

I tottered back to Sara and slung my arm over her shoulders. Seeing Mallot starring at something intently through the corner of my eyes, I turned my head just enough to see a pair of men looking at us. I glared back at them, not liking the smirk one of them wore. The men were both older then us, perhaps in their forties or even as late as their early fifties. One wore a large hat with a black ostrich feather protruding from it. He was adorned in a green velvet jacket and by his stern look I was forced to think of Hobbs in a foul mood because one of the horses broke its leg and had to be shot. He had a light-coloured beard and a thin scar trailing his right cheek. The cutlass at his waist looked well used and scratched up. The other man was wearing a short blue jacket with large cuffs and a sick green scarf around his neck. He had light brown hair that was starting to grey and quite a few scars of his own.

"Well, well, Hector, looks like you owe me two crowns," the one with the scarf said smugly. 'Hector' continued to have a hard neutral look on his face. He looked at our party and raised his upper lip in an unhappy way.

"Aye," was all he said. They both spoke with urban accents, most likely naval officers gone on account. He then proceeded to glare at us until he laid eyes on Sara, who had her face buried in my chest. He raised his brows and smiled rather deviously.

"Tch, does y'er daddy know y'er out with such company, Sara?"

The three of us all raised our heads and stared at him.  
"Barbossa!" Sara said, almost with pleasant surprise, and forced a smile. She broke away from me and walked over to meet with the man. I glared at him very heatedly.  
She led the two men over to us and introduced them as 'Hector Barbossa and Captain Kade Greggs.' Mallot wobbly shock their hands and introduced himself when he suddenly clued in Hector knew Hobbs.

"Oy! How'd y'eh know ol' Hobbsy, eh?" he piped, and Barbossa didn't even hide his look of disgust.

"Sailed with him aboard the _Wildcat_ before it was captured by his majesty's navy." As he spoke, he was looking at me, maybe trying to decide why I looked like I was furious with him.

"Barbossa has been coming to the Black Dragon for years," Sara explained to us, "But he never bothers to sit down. Always chatting with daddy." Barbossa grunted to confirm her words.

"I've seen you two slinking around his tavern, though. Took you in, didn't he? Save y'er lives, eh?" I had the distinct feeling he was trying to provoke us into starting some trouble with him, perhaps so he could inform Hobbs of it.

"Yeah, that's right," I answered back gruffly and continued to glare at him. Kade tilted his head and stared at me.

"Mallot and who the Hell are you, boy?" he said happily. Kade was, as we soon learned, much more jolly than the vicious Barbossa.

"Grapple," I answered darkly, still glaring at Barbossa. I didn't like him at all. He was, after all, still looking at me as though I was a miserable rat.

"I'm sure then, Allen knows your courting his daughter?" Barbossa smirked at me and I grinned back.

"Naw. Hasn't a bloody clue," came the honest answer.

From that, I must have earned some respect, because the good Barbossa stopped glaring and was much more polite.

"Well, you two bloody well knocked out Riggar! Good on you, lads!" Kade congratulated us about beating "Riggar".

"No trouble at'all!" Mallot slurred and careened dangerously to his side, nearly falling over. Somehow, though, he always managed to find a way to right his balance.

Kade was indeed a cheerful man, a bit pompous and arrogant, but he was pleasant enough. Couldn't stop talking about the ship he was captain of, the _Gold Victor_y. He was proud and loud, the complete opposite of Barbossa. The other pirate had a look in his eyes that wasn't quite right, like he was searching permanently for something but simply couldn't find the perfection in anything. He often had his arms crossed and had an air of threat around him.

Kade took us to his ship and showed her to us in the harbor, leaving 'Riggar' lying on the docks. She was a nice sloop, not as small as most of her kind but still looked sleek and fast. He was in love with the bloody thing, how captains got that way I never figured. Mallot mentioned we were looking for a vessel for a few voyages, and Kade suggested, (joking that once we were sober) we sign articles with him. He was leaving port in a week, having just got back that precise night, and looking for a few more 'good sailors' to crew his vessel. I had a suspicion that he had lost a few pirates on his last voyage.

Barbossa made a comment about us not remembering because we were so drunk, and Kade said he'd go to the Black Dragon and remind us. I was going to protest but Sara stopped me. I was fearful that Hobbs would find out about my relationship with Sara, but she regardless, invited Kade _and_ Barbossa to her father's inn. They departed (Barbossa flashing me a superior smirk) and left us the way they had found us.

"You two," Mallot slurred almost happily, "Are in _such_ trouble now." He apparently still had a brain in his alcohol-drenched skull.

"Indeed," I snapped dryly.

No reviews for last chapter? No matter. For those reading and not reviewing, I'm still going to write the story. I know where it's going, for once...

-C


	4. Tense

Title: Time Cannot Erase

Characters: Grapple, Mallot, Jacoby, Sara (OC), Allen Hobbs (OC), Molly (OC)

Disclaimer: The song lyrics that inspired this story are from Evanescence's 'My Immortal'. All characters not seen in the POTC:TCOTBP movie belong to me.

Summary: An unconscious biography of a character that is marked with death, angst, violence, love and blood. As he ponders his past and contemplates the future, memories plague him of his highest and lowest moments in life.

Author's Notes: Very short chapter, just to let you all know I'm still alive. I had planne don it being longer, but this little ditty also makes up for me loosing chapters 14, 15, and 16 to Swimming Above the Sharks. No worries, I'll have 'em back by the weekend.

We got back to the _Black Dragon_ at sunup. Most of Tortuga was still quiet at this time, it's inhabitants either passed out or still in bed with someone. The only people awake and about were the fishermen and store and bar owners, getting their stalk ready for the morning. We came inside and Sara darted off to her room to pretend to be sleeping incase somebody came to wake her. She was a heavy sleeper, though, and I suspect somebody that day did indeed _have_ to wake her up. Molly came down the stairs and didn't even bother looking at us or asking for an explanation. She knew we had been gone the entire night.

"Didn't keep my Sara up all night, did you, dear?" she said, her usually loud and booming voice suddenly very quiet. She gave me a wink and carried on with her business, dragging the bundle of bed sheets in her arms out back where they would no doubt have to be washed. I didn't get a chance to rest until around midday, and I wasn't going to use the all-nighter I had pulled as an excuse for some of my more sloppy work that day. I carried on, as best I could, like any other day.

At around one o'clock in the afternoon, my head was pounding and I had nearly gotten into four fights from accidentally crashing into angry patrons. That was the least of my troubles though. The door the tavern opened and there was a sudden hush. Hobbs let out a squawk that sounded as though somebody had run him through. This, of course, meant he was pleased to see somebody. The two men from the docks had indeed kept to their word, and had showed up at the _Black Dragon_.

"Hector, Kade! I say, jolly surprise to see you two buckos up here so early in the afternoon, eh, wot wot! Good on you two for showing up here, come in, come in!"

Hobbs called to me and I found myself serving them their drinks. I was wondering why he hadn't gotten any of the maids or even Sara to do it, when Hobbs whispered to me, "Watch out for Barbossa. He's a sly fellow, Grapple ol' boy ol' bean, and I don't want _any_ trouble. God only knows he's probably got company waiting for him outside. Used to be a captain, until his ol' ship got captured when he was sick, you know, wot. Lucky to escape and all, eh, but I'll tell you later. Off you go now."

I dropped back and eyed the three old men talking together like old friends, which no doubt they were. Occasionally, Kade would point at somebody and make a comment (he pointed right at me when I was watching, to, and said something that must have been highly amusing) and they'd all nod their heads in agreement or laugh. Mallot passed by and muttered, "Worse'n you an' Sara, Grapple," as he wandered by, almost making me cuff him upside the head. Instead, I told him his annual 'Yore an idiot' and left it at that. I had no intention of giving anybody _any_ clue what so _ever_ that I was secretly courting Sara. Making a commotion might have given Barbossa a motive to inform Hobbs of my little secret, and that wouldn't have been good. At all.

Hours passed by, patrons came and went, but the three gentlemen still conversed as though they had just started. Kade was very sloshed at this point, Hobbs a little off his rocker as well, but Barbossa was sober as a horse. My worry increased, and I kept trying to tell myself he wouldn't dare, but Hell. Of course he would! Never the less, I still had a few jobs to take care of and let my worry escape me. Somewhere along the way, Sara and I snuck downstairs for a quick slick, and when I went back upstairs, Molly was telling me I had to move a few barrels of rum around somewhere, but I wasn't paying attention.

Collin Glencairm had just walked into the inn. He was a nervous thing, looking this way and that, even though he had a few of his mates with him. He spied Hobbs caught up in something else, and seemed to calm down. When Mallot crossed the room with Isabel (one of the whores that had sold herself to Allen so she could stay at the Tavern for no rent except a tax on what she earned) on his arm and thus not noticing Collin, his smirk grew. I couldn't believe he had dared bring himself back.

He and his mates took a seat near the back of the bar where they wouldn't be easily noticed. A small scrap between six pirates had broken out in front of their table, which was even better for them. I didn't mention Collin to Molly, knowing she'd start hollering about him and want him out, thus causing a raucous that would result in Collin and his crew causing even more trouble then Tortuga already had. I kept an eye on him while I kept my other eye on Hector and Greggs. It was _not_ an easy feeling.

It only lasted less then ten minutes.

Kalimac: Thanks for the review! I appreciate your comments. I do strive for realism, eh.


	5. Debt and Trial

Title: Time Cannot Erase

Characters: Grapple, Mallot, Jacoby, Sara (OC), Allen Hobbs (OC), Molly (OC)

Disclaimer: The song lyrics that inspired this story are from Evanescence's 'My Immortal'

Summary: An unconscious biography of a character that is marked with death, angst, violence, love and blood. As he ponders his past and contemplates the future, memories plague him of his highest and lowest moments in life.

Author's Notes: Not much. I wrote this as a one-shot fic originally but changed it, as it was way too long in my opinion.

New chapter, wee bit longer then the last. Thanks for the reviews, yarr! Less Current time speaking from Grapple this chapter. Lots of stuff going on, though, in the past.

Chapter Five: Debt and Trial

I hadn't a clue what Collin was doing back here. He knew he wasn't welcome, and if he wanted a drink, there were plenty other bars in Tortuga where his life _wouldn't_ have been endangered. For a moment I puzzled that he might have already been drunk and merely forgot, or perhaps he had lost his sanity somewhere along the line and his mates were trying too put him out of his torture by bringing him to the _Black Dragon _to have him executed. Whatever the reason Collin was there for, I wasn't going to let him have his way.

About five minutes after he arrived, I eyed Sara stalking about with a tray hoisted onto her shoulder, beer and ale sloshing over the rims of the mugs. She was slightly off, from the look of her, weaving this way and that through the tables and people as usual but with a subtle lack of grace only somebody who observed her as often as I did would have noticed. Giving one last look over at Collin and his cronies, and I approached Sara from the side as she finished handing out her burden to here men at a table near the centre of the room.

I remember her being so tense as I put my hand on her shoulder. She didn't relax, and it bothered me.

"Oy, you alright?" I asked her, and she merely flashed me a small smile before nodding her head.

"Of course I am." She exhaled right then and bent forward a bit, her hands going to her stomach. She started breathing rather hard and then her hand came up to cover her mouth. Almost immediately after that, she pushed past me and rushed to the door on the northern wall, which led out to the back and the barn.

About to follow after her I was stopped when I heard an unfamiliar voice shout my name from a very close proximity. Knowing that whoever it had been wasn't merely referring to a grapnel hook with rowdy volume, I turned around and grumbled "Wot do you-?.

I was promptly punched in the face.

Stumbling back with a hand over my nose and trying to ignore the blood that was gushing forth from it, I glared at the man who had walloped me, backing into a table and thus disturbing the men sitting at it. However, instead of the expected reaction of frustration and anger and calls of "Watch it!", I was rather disturbed to witness the silencing of the entire tavern.

After a brief moment there was the scuffling sound of a chair being vacated to quickly and Mallot was standing up, hammer in hand and looking rather shocked yet furious at the assailant. My attacker was a sturdy man a good few years older then myself (he looked to be about thirty while I was merely twenty-something rather) with brown hair tied in a ponytail, and an expression on his face that wasn't pleased yet it wasn't disconcerted either. He looked grim as though he'd rather not have done it but thought it best he had.

"Collin sends 'is regards from outside," the man said, voice heavy with a Brazilian accent, and my eyes flickered towards the seat Glencairm had been sitting at. He was no longer there and I realized what was happening. He was trying to draw me outside to go after him, that way he wouldn't be liable for anything that would have happened to me under Hobbs' watch, and Hobbs wouldn't have seen him causing trouble in the tavern.

"Clever bastard, innit he?" the man said, noticing the look on my face as I figured everything out. I grunted and tried to sniff, which resulted in my attempts at stifling a choking cough. After I gained control, I looked up at the man.

"Cowardly, more's loike it," I said. "Him shending you in to draw me out."  
The other man shrugged and seemed rather unconcerned. He must of spotted Hobbs, for he put on an apologetic smile and apologized for the inconvenience.

He leaned down a bit so he was more level with by bowed head and lowered his voice his he noise in the tavern started picking up again, forcing me to strain to hear him.  
"I don't much be caring about you, but I do care about the way he be trying to get at you. Collin's got this lovely little bird outside that be singing sickness and he not be making it easy on her. He told me to tell you that if you don't, and no offense from me meant for I be quoting this, "Get your no good criminal-colony ass out back" he's going to be doing away with your girl, among other nasty things."  
He straightened out, for which I was glad for; he couldn't have seen my horrified expression from where he was looking at me from. "Shame, really. She be seeming a right mockingbird, that 'un."

About that time, Mallot arrived and stood beside me. "Who the _Hell_ are you comin' in 'ere and punching Grapple right smack in the face, eh?" Mallot's voice was rather high-pitched with indignity and loud. A few heads turned and I noticed Hobbs approaching us from the side, Kade and Barbossa sitting at their table and looking highly interested in what was going on.

Hastily, I straightened out and was overcome with an odd sense of dizziness. Sniffing hard, I swallowed back the bloody hork and unhappily noticed my nose hadn't stopped bleeding, though there was a considerable less amount of gushing going on.  
"It's fine, Mallot, nuffink personahl," I mumbled as best I could, the Brazilian smiling humorously at the damage he had indirectly caused my voice.

"Fine? 'Tis not fine, I'm throwing him out, wot!" Hobbs informed me, the same offended tone of Mallot's creeping into his voice.

"Ah, for the best, hm," the Brazilian remarked, "I suspect I should at least be telling you whom I be, hm?" He grinned toothily and introduced himself as 'Firbleau' before turning around with a nod, and leaving us just as abruptly as he had made his entrance.

After a moment, I pinched my nose and looked to Hobbs. "I haff tuh-"

"Yes, yes, of course ol' bean. I say, chaps, odd night, hm?" Hobbs babbled half to himself, running a hand over his head. "Mallot, go with him, make sure he doesn't walk into a wall and hurt it further."

"Yeah…" I agreed, not really paying attention, and Mallot gave me a peculiar look as Hobbs started walking away. After a moment, Mallot half-dragged me by the arm behind the bar and fished out a bottle of whiskey before launching into an odd assortment of accusations, multiple of 'Why didn't you let me kill him?', suspicions, and all around remarks about how offended he was.

"He's got Sara," I muttered, and Mallot shut up for a moment.

Eyes ridiculously wide and easily putting serving platters to shame, his jaw worked for a moment before producing any sound.  
"We got to tell Hobbs, Grapple."  
"No!" I snapped, then more calmly, "No…" I explained that Collin knew about me and Sara, and if Hobbs knew I'd be good as dead anyway.

When I said before Hobbs would have killed me had he known I was secretly courting his daughter, I wasn't exaggerating. It was the blunt truth, and most unfortunately it was a fate that most certainly could have awaited me.

"It won't just be Collin waitin' for you, eh?" Mallot pointed out and I merely nodded. "So…" he concluded, and looked at me with an expectant look. I groaned, knowing that he wanted me to ask for his help.

Of all the people in the world, there is nobody whom I trust more then Mallot, and I'd confidently put my life in his hands. I had always been like that, and vice versa. The simple problem was I had become very reluctant to ask him for anything in gratitude for and guilt for making him keep Sara and my secret.

"Just…please," I grumbled, and he started chuckling, shouldering his mallet with the air of someone about to go into battle thinking they were immortal.

"Of course, eh," he grinned and we started walking towards the door on the northern wall, which led out to the back and the barn.

Looking back, I don't know why I was so bloody moronic. We should have told Hobbs, and even if Collin revealed Sara and me to him, Hobbs probably wouldn't have believed it, and Sara might have been safer…

I guess I'll never know.

It was late at night, or early in the morning depending on how one looked at it. The moonlight (God curse it!), so nobody had noticed the squabble behind the tavern. Of course, it being Tortuga, not many would have given a damn anyways. Fighting and rape was an all to familiar element in everyday life on the island.

The door creaked open as though the sound had been magnified by tenfold. Wincing and straining my eyes to see in the light from the open doorway behind me, I could only make out a few dark shadows. Beside me, Mallot sucked in his breath and I caught him starring at me.  
"Wot?"

"Your eye is all," he mumbled. "The reflections from the lights are making it glow red. It startled me."

I almost cuffed him upside the head for being so cowardly but restrained myself. Here he was helping me with something he had nothing to do with, and I was supposed to be grateful. Instead of hurting him, I merely smirked and we proceeded forward, shutting the door behind us.

"'Bout time you showed up, boy," Collin's voice came from right in front of the barn doors across the yard, and I growled, quickening my pace. I started raising my arms as if to strike him when I got there, but he stopped me.  
"Tut, tut, tut, not so fast, boy." Collin grinned. From the lights in the windows and other buildings plus the moon, and I could tell he was smirking. He raised his arm and gestured somewhere off to his side. My eyes followed the line and I nearly leapt forward when I saw four men holding Sara back. She was whimpering quietly and I realized she had been gagged. She kept trying to throw herself forward, get away from them, kicking and flailing madly…

"Bastard," I grunted lowly. He had tied Sara's hands behind her back. Her skirts were pushed up past her knees and there were dark bruises visible, even in the poor light. Her beautiful face was stained with tears.

Collin started laughing. _Laughing_! And then one of the men holding Sara flung her to the ground. She didn't make a noise as she landed with a dull thud. The four blokes stepped away from my Sara and each one of them pulled out either a sword or a pistol. Grinning still, Collin unsheathed his cutlass from his belt and ordered me to unwind my grapnel.

"Never try to put ol' Collin Glencairm down, boy," Collin was telling me, but I was only half listening. "You're nothing…"

Dah remembered Collin. I stopped listening completely.


End file.
